


coming in from the cold

by evanescent



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, Sickfic, i hope it makes u feel warm and fuzzy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4385990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanescent/pseuds/evanescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gon states, “I think you have a fever.” Considering the rush of blood to the head he had a moment ago, Killua wants to say, <i>Well, no shit</i>, but Gon continues, “You were actually coughing a lot when we were playing earlier. You caught a cold.”</p><p>Killua blinks at him and actually laughs. “Idiot,” he retorts, backing away from Gon’s touch. “Assassins don’t catch colds.”</p><p>And then, just as Gon is about to speak, Killua sneezes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coming in from the cold

**Author's Note:**

> it's been months since i actually wrote and posted something but the other day i finished watching hxh (after taking my sweet time to get to it, that is) and here have this silly lil thing i came up with while watering my plants. also mito-san is the best mom pass it on
> 
> set during gon and killua's stay on whale island

After the sixth game, Killua calls it a draw and collapses onto Gon’s bed. He stretches his arms as Gon hums happily next to him.

“For a moment I thought I won’t catch up and I’m gonna lose this round,” he says, saving the game. “In the same way, _again_.”

Killua snorts lightly at that. “Didn’t stop you from making a comeback and turning the final result to three wins, three losses for both of us, though.”

“Nope,” Gon laughs, the sound soft and quiet in contrast to the rain pounding outside for a few hours now. From the way the bed shifts, Killua knows Gon glanced through the window for a moment before sitting back. “Doesn’t look like it’s gonna stop any soon,” he says.

“Hm, probably.” That’s actually a shame; when they woke up the weather was great -- as for pretty much every day they have spent on the island so far -- and so they went to the shore again, only to be caught by a sudden cloudburst and run back to Gon’s house all soaked. The towels are probably still laying on the bathroom floor, even though Killua heard Mito-san reminding Gon to pick them up once they dry themselves. “Does it happen often?” he asks, glancing at Gon.

“The shift in the weather?” When Killua nods, Gon explains, “Sometimes. The weather is pretty nice most of the year here on Whale Island, but from time to time it changes without a warning like today. It probably has something to do with ocean currents and stuff.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful -- so unlike himself, Killua notes a quiet snicker, and shivers a little; it has gotten colder, too. “At worst, it will last a day or two, then it should be back to normal,” Gon adds.

“Huh, so we are stuck in the house for the rest of today and tomorrow probably,” Killua says with a pout and clears his throat. “What do you do when it rains?”

“Play cards or board games with Mito-san, and Grandma sometimes, work on new baits, catch up on schoolwork…” Gon counts out loud. “But the last thing was before I became a Hunter, so.”

Killua turns his gaze at the ceiling, unimpressed. _There really is not much to do here when you can’t go outside, is there_ , he thinks to himself before getting up and sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Alright, take out cards, I will show you how a pro plays.”

Gon sticks his tongue at him and laughs when Killua tries to flick his forehead. “We should probably play about something,” he proposes.

For a long moment, Killua thinks about it, and grins. “Alright, the winner gets the other’s dessert after dinner.” He knows Mito-san bake a cake earlier today and if Killua had to be honest, her cooking was _good_. And if it was something sweet? Even better.

There is a flick in Gon’s eyes that shows he understand the weight of the matter and is going to be serious about it. “Fine by me. But Killua?”

“What?” he asks, putting his chin in his hand as he rests elbow on a knee.

Instead of answering, Gon suddenly leans in closer, filling Killua’s field of vision and entering his personal space without a warning, _as usual_ (he really should get used to this), and he presses his hand to Killua’s forehead. A heartbeat later, Killua feels his face heat up.

“What are you--” he starts, flustered, and Gon states, “I think you have a fever.” Considering the rush of blood to the head he had a moment ago, Killua wants to say, _Well, no shit_ , but Gon continues, “You were actually coughing a lot when we were playing earlier. You caught a cold.”

Killua blinks at him and actually laughs. “Idiot,” he retorts, backing away from Gon’s touch. “Assassins don’t catch colds.”

And then, just as Gon is about to speak, Killua sneezes.

The complete stillness after that lasts only for a second; Killua feels mostly confused, but Gon is quick on his feet, already at the door, exclaiming, “Mito-san, Killua is sick!”

“Wait, Gon--”

…

“So that little trip today actually backfired on you,” Mito-san says sympathetically, checking Killua’s temperature with a thermometre. “How do you feel?”

A little too self-conscious with Mito and Gon’s attention on him, Killua answers, “Um, fine, really. For the most part.” He coughs; now that he thinks about it, his throat _does_ hurt. “It’s just a cold after all.”

Mito-san hums and puts the kettle on. She’s making tea, Killua realizes. “But if not taken care of properly, it may lead to more serious complications later.” He almost says, _It’s not like it could kill me, contrary to other things_ , but instead shrugs and sits down in a chair.

“But Killua, you should have said if you weren’t feeling well,” Gon says, his brows knitted together.

“I didn’t feel bad,” he replies, and even if he had, he hasn’t noticed. “I have never had a cold.”

“Really?”

“Not from what I remember.” Well, there was this incident when he was like six or seven and came down with pneumonia or something akin to that after swimming a few kilometres in open on a really cold day as a part of his training, but Killua figures it’s a little different from the cold. “I bet you used to get sick all the time when you were younger because you would stay outside for too long,” he teases and stifles a sneeze.

Gon laughs sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. “That’s true,” Mito-san admits, pouring the water into the cups. “He would go fishing or wander through the forest and if there was a change in the weather for worse I knew I had to wait for him with blankets and soup already prepared.”

“I don’t catch colds easily now, though,” Gon says in his defense.

“I suppose your immune system had to get used to some things.” She places the cups on the table. “However, both of you, drink up. And Gon, have you pulled out extra blankets? It’s colder now and Killua is shivering.” Killua shivers _at that_ , because he was pretty sure he had been doing a fine job at handling chills running all over his body. He certainly didn’t expect to be read so easily.

“Ossu!” Gon calls, drinking his cup in two or three sips, and runs upstairs before Killua even gets a hang of his beverage.

Mito-san smiles at that and says to Killua, “I’m going to cook that kind of soup which is the best medicine for cold. You should drink your tea and go rest.”

“Right,” he mutters. Tea isn’t sweet enough for his tastes and drinking hurts slightly, but at least it’s hot. When he’s done a sneeze or two later, Killua gets up and clears his throat. “Um, thank you,” he says awkwardly. “For the tea and soup…”

Killua is not used to -- to this. Before, if he got sick in one way or the other or was injured, it was a matter of days before he was back in full shape after some tending from the butlers, usually Tsubone; listening to all those _Killua-chans_ only speeded up the process. He never really expected (or maybe he learnt _not_ to expect) even the simplest, genuine gestures of care or worry from his father, much less from his mother. It’s just the way it is, in his family and his life.

Mito-san smiles at him over her shoulder as she is chopping vegetables and says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, “It’s nothing, Killua. You’re more than welcome here.”

 _It’s the way it_ was, Killua reminds himself before climbing the stairs.

…

Predictably so, Killua ends up taking Gon’s bed as he burrows himself under a stack of blankets. He supposes it’s nice, but he wouldn’t sound like himself if he didn’t whine some.

“I still don’t understand why you and Mito-san are fretting so much,” he mutters to Gon who is sitting on the floor next to bed. “It’s just a cold. You realize there were actual situations in which we could have died during the Hunter Exam or on Heavens Arena, right?”

“Of course,” Gon says simply, peering up at him. “Being sick is different from them, but it shouldn’t be underestimated.”

Killua rolls his eyes. “Only you could say something like that.” Breathing through his nose is hard. “Coming down with a cold or some other sickness would be unthinkable in my family.” They don’t do all that training with poisons or electricity for nothing, after all. “Actually, if I died from something like that, they would probably disown me,” he adds, beaming a little at the idea despite the soreness in his muscles catching up to him.

Gon hums in understatement and notices, “But it wouldn’t really work out for better if you were dead.”

“Ah. Right.” Killua is silent for a moment, mourning the lost idea. “How come you don’t have a cold, though, huh? We were both breaking some sweat outside when it began to rain.” Gon chuckles and shrugs sheepishly. “I guess idiots don’t get colds after all…”

“Killua, that’s mean!” He laughs seeing a scowl on Gon’s face what throws him into a short coughing fit that ends with another sneeze. Darn, this is so annoying.

“You know, Killua,” Gon says, and there is this light, warm undertone in his voice that makes Killua turns his head to look at him again, finding the previous irritation long gone and forgotten in favour of a small, bright smile, “you sneeze like a cat. It’s adorable.”

His cheeks feel all red and hot again and he sputters, “Stop being so embarrassing, _geez_.” He throws an arm over his face, choosing not to dwell on how Gon’s mind works if it found him being sick adorable. Or just him at all. “I’m laying here, _dying_ , and you dare to add to my condition--”

“You are not dying,” Gon interrupts, soft but firm, and Killua lowers his arm to see his friend standing up. “Well, but I guess having cold for the first time in your life is kinda… a weird experience? And not that pleasant.”

“Yeah, I could have done without it,” Killua agrees, rubbing his temples. He sighs. “I can’t even practice my Nen like this. Being sick is boring.”

Gon nods and puts his hands on his hips. “You know, when I was younger and got sick, Mito-san would stay with me and tell me stories, either real or made up. She was really good at this! They were fun to listen to and I ended up falling asleep without problems.”

Killua snorts. “Gon, I’m not a kid.” Well, technically, he is, but not a _toddler_. “Besides, Mito-san is cooking soup and I should probably eat it before falling asleep, right?”

“Right!” Gon tilts his head. “I should go see if it’s ready or maybe she needs help.” He doesn’t move an inch, though. “Killua, is that okay? Do you need something?”

“Just go,” he groans. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere in this state.”

Gon makes an affirmative sound and leaves the room quietly. Quiet. The only thing Killua actually hears is rain, pounding loud and steady against the panes, so monotonous that it has already melted in with the background noise of the island. He tries that, too; inhaling and exhaling are motions he does slowly, coming to a conclusion that he isn’t feeling that great, but he’s had worse, of course, so it’s bearable. Gon’s bed feels clean and warm, and though there is a bundle of blankets over him what could somehow result in suffocating, it also feels safe. Killua relaxes and yawns.

Some time later, the door opens and Gon asks in a hushed voice, “Ne, Killua, are you sleeping?”

Killua grunts softly and sits up, blinking as Gon gives him a steaming bowl. “Eat up,” his friend says, and Killua obeys, though he is not the biggest fan of vegetables or soups. But it’s supposed to help, so be it.

Gon crawls into bed and sits in the back, loosely pulling some blankets over himself. Killua eyes him, his gaze a little unfocused, and Gon claps his hand. “Story time!”

“You won’t let go of that, will you?” Killua chuckles quietly. It’s obvious who is going to give in, as always. “Fine, tell me something you haven’t before.”

His friend ponders this request for a long moment, before apparently recalling something as he starts, “Okay, so like I said once, there aren’t really any kids my age on the island, or just kids at all. There is Noko-chan, though, and once when we were in the port…”

The soup warms him up from the inside and Gon’s story is actually pretty funny, or maybe it’s his storytelling, which isn’t very consistent, but all those sound effects along with “and then she was like… and the captain of that ship said… oh!, but before that, he was like…” make up for eventual shortcomings. By the end of it, Killua feels slightly amused and quite sleepy.

After a moment of silence, he speaks up, with his eyes half-closed, “Hey, Gon?”

“Hm?”

Killua thinks about Mito-san brushing his hair out of his forehead and her smile that is so much like Gon’s, and the way his friend sometimes manages to understand what Killua needs even if it’s not what he wants, and thinks, _Being sick sucks, but being taken care of isn’t all that bad_.

“Don’t eat Mito-san’s cake on your own,” he says.

Gon’s laugh is like a soap bubble; airy, fleeting, and reflecting light.

“Okay.”

…

(When Killua wakes up, it’s morning, and he’s feeling much better than yesterday. _Huh, colds aren’t such a big deal_ , he thinks, sitting up and accidentally waking Gon, who apparently fell asleep in a weird position somewhere in the back of the bed.

The first thing that Gon says, rubbing his bleary eyes, is “Good morning, Killua, how are you--” followed by a sneeze.)

**Author's Note:**

> conclusion: both assassins and idiots _do_ catch colds
> 
> pls feel free to come and talk to me about hxh


End file.
